


My Sun

by starryeyedboxes



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedboxes/pseuds/starryeyedboxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack hated the sun. It reminded him of horrendous times, but for some reason, he's able to find solace in Mark's own light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sun

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a bit odd for me. I never really write plots like this as I'm often out of my element while doing so, but this was something that I felt like was something I needed to write. Warning: PTSD. There are more notes at the end. 
> 
> Originally Posted: June 24, 2015.

Jack sat down on the jagged rocks, his feet dangling off of the short cliff. It was only a ten foot drop at most, so he wasn’t too afraid. He hated heights with a strong distaste, but this was fairly manageable.

Looking up at the sky, he was happy to see grey clouds rolling by. It was wonderful getting to bask in the gloomy weather, the slight chill praising his bones with its touch. Rolling his head back, he shut his blue eyes and listened to the waves lapping at the beach’s shore below. The sound they made was practically music to his young ears.

He wished every day looked and felt like this. Just him at the beach underneath the dull weather, the only noise in his head from the water.

But above all, he craved the absence of the cursed sun.

He rested his back flat on the rock, his hands behind his head. With his hat cast to the side of him, Jack was now able to see a figure cautiously but happily skipping over the rocks in his general direction. It took him a moment, but when his eyes fell over a familiar head of black hair, he realized who it was immediately.

“Mark,” he breathed as the man crouched down in front of him, his face hovering. “What’re you doing here?”

With a delicate smile, Mark ran a hand over the nape of his neck, rubbing at the skin awkwardly.

“I was hoping that I’d find you here.”

Still not changing his position, Jack gave a small smile. “Do y’need something?”

“Just wanted to see what y-you’re up to is all,” the man stuttered slightly, pulling his legs out from behind him so he could sit crossed-legged in front of Jack’s head instead. “Are you busy?”

A part of him wanted to say he was, but how could he be busy when all he was doing was resting on top of a rock? He was always happy to find time alone, but there were certain times where Mark broke those expectations and Jack found himself drawn to the optimistic and pure soul that Mark was. While Jack hated the sun for the most part, he still couldn’t help but refer to his love interest as anything but a ray of light. In essence, that’s exactly what he was.

A blazing force that constantly tried melting the ice Jack constantly felt within.

“I’m never busy for you, Mark.”

He caught a second of embarrassment flash across the older man’s face, his eyes softening with each word. It was a beautiful sight, Jack noted. Sometimes he wondered if Mark knew how much he was truly adored. Jack may be awful at expressing his emotions, but it was honestly something he tried to display. He often found himself wondering if it showed.

Mark placed a gentle hand over the white scar on Jack’s cheek, running his thumb over the damaged skin underneath. It was such a soft gesture and the younger man felt himself sink into it, his eyes lidding slowly, devouring the delicate sensation on a part of him he hated so strongly. As expected, a lovely voice tenderly resonated over the rippling waves. Jack listened to his companion’s song, taking in every syllable, every sound, almost as if he was hungry for more. They stayed like this for a while, Mark’s inflection washing over them, his thumb still tracing streaks across warm skin, Jack sighing in contentment.

After some time lapsed, Mark’s tune ceased and Jack opened his eyes once more, meeting the brown eyes he adored so dearly. His hand reached out and pulled off the glasses resting on his interest’s nose, smiling when he heard a low chuckle from the other.

“You look better without glasses,” Jack murmured as he moved the frames next to his hat, resting it on top of the grey fabric. When he met Mark’s gaze again, there was an expression to his face that was never particularly evident before. He had never seen it. It was an odd thing to describe; how you could just tell that there was something different simply by a look.

As he was about to question what was wrong, his thoughts were dispelled when Mark gripped Jack’s shoulders and pulled him up so he could hold him instead. When Jack let out an astonished breath, Mark immediately embraced the man in his arms tighter, nuzzling his cheek on grey-streaked hair. It shocked the younger man but after a few seconds passed, he sunk into the body surrounding him, feeding off of the warmth it provided. His eyes closed once more, seeing nothing but darkness, feeling nothing but pure happiness.

Mark began singing again. Jack could feel it vibrate through Mark’s chest, the sensation comforting.

Jack truly adored days like this.

_He quickly ducked behind the brush, his lungs desperately pulling for air. This was his first kill. Jack had been so nervous. Did the bullet even land? Was he shaking too much that it missed its target?_

_A round of screams quickly spread through the tall grass, and Jack let out a shaky breath. He must have completed his job then._

_The sun was bright on his skin as his gloved hands helped him scamper off the ground and towards his base. He needed to conceal himself in case anyone realized the direction of where the bullet originated from, but his first thought was sloppy. All he could do was flee, his head held low, praying the tall foliage concealed him well. While his hands were trembling slightly, he made it to the small building he was familiar with where he trudged his aching body through the front door. As he collapsed onto the floor, he looked up at the woman towering over him, her dark eyes scanning him with a questioning look._

_As he nodded, she gave out a happy noise, her head nodding in approval as his eyes were slightly blinded by the strong sun seeping in through the windows._

_His first kill was a success._

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out again,” Mark fumbled, avoiding Jack’s curious gaze entirely.

Jack’s eyes softened at the nervousness he was witnessing, and grinned happily. “I’d love to.”

When Mark turned back to the younger man, Jack saw nothing but excitement and when he leaned in to press his lips against Mark’s cheek, a peculiar rush flowed through his veins, his heart pulsing wildly. He lingered for a bit but pulled away almost regrettably. It was their first time sharing any sort of contact in such a manner. They often held each other or held hands occasionally, but any sort of kiss was new to them. He was never the type to initiate such a thing, meaning Jack took a gamble.

And by the look at his companion’s face, it was worth the risk.

_He slid the pistol back in his waistband, his eyes tired with his laborious work. The metal was warm against his skin, his body coated with a light layer of perspiration. Wiping his brow with a gloved hand, he sighed, shielding his eyes from the intense sun overhead. While the air was awful today, the atmosphere dry and uncomfortable, Jack had a job to do regardless. There was no room for complaining._

_Peering down at the body at his feet, Jack sucked in a strong breath of oxygen, the warm air scratching at his lungs. The man was collapsed from his bullet, but his eyes were still fluttering slightly, his breath shallow._

_Jack always hated when this happened._

_Not wanting to waste another bullet to put the dying man out of his misery, Jack crouched down and with a gentle palm, smothered the victim’s nose and mouth, taking away all air. It was quite the awful way to go, but it was much better than hanging on by a thread with a bullet in his chest._

_It didn’t take long._

_When his eyelids stopped twitching and his chest stopped moving, Jack pulled his hand away, glad he wore his gloves even in this heat. His fingerprints would have been all over that man’s skin._

_As he flipped open the disposable phone, he pressed the keys quickly, desperate to get out of that house as fast as possible. It never gets easier, Jack thought to himself. It never does._

_But at least I’m doing it for the right reasons._

“Jack, why don’t you want to come?” Mark asked, his voice laced with utter concern at his boyfriend’s refusal. “Felix and Ken are coming. You don’t want to? The sun is great today!”

“No thank you,” Jack muttered, pulling the blanket over his swirling head. “I’m not in the mood. I’m sorry.”

The bed shifted from beside him, surprising him entirely. As the fabric was pulled back, he met warm chocolate eyes and a dazzling smile that often made him grin in return. Jack batted his eyes slightly, adjusting to the light.

“Then would you like to watch some Netflix instead?” Before Jack could even form a single consonant or vowel, Mark spoke again. “Don’t comment on how I’m already ready. You know I would much rather spend time with you when you’re feeling sad.”

“I’m not feeling sad-”

Mark was already pulling off his shorts and glasses. He tossed his discarded clothes to the side and placed his glasses on top of the famous grey hat on their nightstand before curling up underneath the blanket with his lover. Jack’s eyes widened as familiar arms pulled him close, their legs intertwining underneath the fabric, his head underneath Mark’s strong jaw. As his eyes stung with tears, he inhaled the scent he never got used to, Mark’s natural aroma filling his aching lungs.

The older man said nothing as he grabbed the remote and scrolled through the listings on the TV, Netflix’s layout recognizable to Jack, even through blurred vision.

He wondered if his boyfriend knew he was crying in his arms as he desperately tried to hide it. He stilled his body to the best of his abilities, controlled his breathing, and fought back the warm tears the best he could. He thought he was getting away with it but when he felt Mark’s thumb run across the scar on his cheek like he always did and a soft pair of lips press against his damp temple, he realized Mark had likely known the entire time.

The arms around him tightened as Jack let out a soft wail, finally breaking loose. His sobs echoed against the walls and over whatever movie was playing on the TV, his chest feeling like it was about to collapse. All air escaped his lungs as he fussed, his body violently shivering, his hands trembling as they desperately searched for something to hold onto. His mind convinced that he was falling into an abyss.

The darkness gripped at his bones, seeping into every crevice and orifice. As Jack’s mouth opened to inhale much needed oxygen, his lungs were surprised to find that they weren’t getting any air. He could barely breathe, frantic hiccups and gasps abound as Mark quickly pulled his face towards his. Pressing his forehead against his companion’s, Mark began humming softly, his eyes never leaving Jack’s.

Clenching his eyes shut, his cries tearing through his body, Jack urgently tried clasping onto the tune. Finally taking in a huge breath of air, he held it tightly, trying to focus on the melodic notes in place. His hands gripped Mark’s collar, his forehead likely pressing uncomfortably against the other’s, but soon enough, he felt his body begin to unwind. Jack continued to focus on Mark’s song.

Jack traced each note delicately, following the rises and falls of the hushed noise enveloping him. He noted that it was a melody he didn’t recognize.

His body finally concluded the quivering, riding out the beautiful hums. Mark’s embrace lessened slightly when he realized Jack was no longer crying, his hands releasing the collar. When it was certain there were no more tears, the younger man opened his eyes once more, surprised to see Mark’s brown ones already open. They looked at each other for a moment, before Jack closed his eyes again and let out a shaky breath. He was still rattled.

“Can you sing me a song, Mark?”

“Which song would you like?”

“Somethin’ you wrote.”

Jack felt the bed shift for a moment before the TV fell silent. Almost immediately, Mark’s voice traveled through their bedroom, the composition also new to his ears. His hands circled around Mark’s hips, his exhausted body succumbing to a deep slumber.

He dreamt of Mark and the beautiful lyrics he created. Jack’s soul was damaged, but at least he could listen to this music in a feeble attempt to heal it.

He was glad Mark had stayed.

_“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” The woman with long black hair questioned him, her eyes laced with pure concern. “Jack, you know you don’t belong here,” she whispered. “This isn’t your fight.”_

_With fierce blue eyes, he simply kicked the body aside, the corpse stumbling down the stairs with very little noise. He wiped the butt of his pistol on his handkerchief he kept in his back pocket, and slid the familiar weapon into his waistband, his habits revealing to be indefinitely true. Stuffing the blood soaked cloth back into his jeans, he looked at the woman who had just spoke to him and provided a friendly smile._

_“It may seem this way to you, Daku,” Jack began as he observed the scene around them, making sure it looked like the man had simply fallen down at the worst place possible. He glared at the blinding sunlight that pierced his eyes as he walked by an open window. “But to me, it feels like a battle that I need to fight.”_

_“This is not your homeland,” his partner commented, her long nails digging into his shoulder out of desperation, “Dear, this is a war that does not concern you. You are young. You have no need to be here. You must flee. You must have your liberty before it is taken from you.”_

_Her motherly words struck something within Jack, his chest somewhat aching. But he shook it off, pressed it to the back of his mind, and simply placed a gloved hand over hers._

_“I can’t possibly think of having any sort of liberty when people like you are being murdered, Daku. This may be a war between the generations above me, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of having an opinion on it.”_

_“I said no such thing!” She wailed. “I am saying this is not your battle! Look at this man!” Daku’s long fingers dug into his cheek as she forced his head sideways, his eyes casting a glance at the man at the bottom of the stairs. “You have no guilt! Do you not feel bad that this man’s life is gone?!”_

_Then the twinge of pain he felt earlier returned, doubling in size. Almost immediately, as if something snapped, tears pooled at the bottom of his eyes, cascading in streams as he stood silently. Looking. Observing._

_“Daku-”_

_Her fingers hastily pulled away, her brown eyes hard. “You must flee, Jack. You stay here to fight a battle that is not yours, but you must remember that not all of us are able to have freedom. You do. Do not take that for granted.”_

Throwing the glass against the wall, Jack watched as the red wine inside splattered across the kitchen, the glass shards soon following in a lovely drop. It was as if everything was sped up, his actions foreign to even himself. Things were going by in a blur, plates smashed against the granite counter, the furniture haphazardly strewn about the living room. Food stained the walls from earlier when he began throwing their plastic containers of leftovers in a wild frenzy.

“Jack!”

But he couldn’t hear much. There was a ringing in his ears and as arms grabbed hold of him, Jack flailed about, his body pumping adrenaline like never before. He grabbed the closest thing to him and threw it as hard as he could. When he opened his clenched eyes, he saw a severely damaged apple on the floor and a slight crack in the kitchen paint.

“Please,” Mark whispered into his ear, his arms holding him back from his tirade. “You need to calm down.”

But Jack could only see red. He couldn’t understand anything as he began thrashing about, his vision blurring as his eyes formed those warm tears he hated so much. Mark was luckily a bit stronger than him. He pulled Jack to the floor where he held him down, his arms pinned beside either side his head.

Jack wailed, his legs kicking rapidly but Mark quickly pinned them down with his own and let his boyfriend hyperventilate below him, tears flooding in reddened eyes.

It was a lot quicker this time. Jack’s breaths fell in rhythm with the tune Mark was once again humming. He had grown to realize it was melody specifically created with him in mind. The beats laced in it were to help guide him to take in a breath of oxygen, which Jack obeyed each time. When his breathing finally matched the beats in the beautiful tune, Mark rolled off and pulled him in for a strong embrace. Jack was surprised to hear his companion’s heart beat rapidly. It betrayed Mark’s calm composure.

Jack stared blankly at the kitchen, guilt washing over him as he saw the mess he made. Glass was everywhere, food streaked on the walls, alcohol spilling over everything. When he felt wet tears on his face, it was bewildering to him that it was not his own. They were Mark’s tears.

What a disaster.

_Jack’s breath hitched in his throat as he pushed his gun back into the waistband of his jeans. The metal was familiar against his warm skin, and he oddly felt comforted by the sensation. It was as if a familiar friend were welcoming him, and he adored that._

_Some sense of reality in this God-awful haze._

_As Jack looked down at the woman at his feet, he sighed, wiping away the strong flow of blood from his cheek. The wife had slashed at him with a knife and managed to harm him pretty badly. She had gotten in the way of why he was truly here, easily caught in the crossfire. He didn’t mean to kill a bystander, definitely one who was as young as she was, but it was his job. Hopefully Daku wouldn’t be too angry when he met up with her in the backyard. After all, he was to exterminate anyone who served as a threat. He had to protect the people who were born here, like Daku, because the land was under their ownership after all._

_How could he possibly stand by and let it be taken from them?_

_Pulling his shirt over his pistol, he crept over the dead body at hand and carefully opened the door that lead into what he was assuming to be a backyard. When he looked outside, the intense sun burning his face, the grueling scene that suddenly unraveled in front of his very eyes shook him to the very core._

_Nothing could have prepared him for this job. Jack took countless lives in the name of what he thought was a battle worth fighting for, a war that he believed needed to be fought. He knew he was on the right side. He absolutely knew it._

_But as a loud bang filled his ears, the still body of his partner slowly falling to the ground, his heart froze. A man with blonde hair stepped over her body, but before he could think, Jack pulled out his pistol and fired it, his determination and anger coursing through every vein in his body._

_As the man quickly slumped to the dirt, Jack’s body took off in a mad sprint towards Daku who had been motionless this entire time. With a trembling hand, Jack pressed two fingers to her neck waiting. Hoping. Praying._

_A few moments passed before a loud cry sounded throughout the blazingly dry area, Jack’s sobs evident as he cradled a dead Daku in his arms._

Leaning into Mark’s chest, he nuzzled the bridge of his nose into his boyfriend’s neck, taking in the familiar scent. Mark was running a hand through silver-streaked brown hair, the other arm wrapped around Jack’s naked waist as he sat in his lap, his body happy to be where it was.

“I love you,” Jack muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The words were fluid, their syllables comfortable on Jack’s tongue, a welcoming taste.

“I love you, too. You know that,” Mark whispered in return without missing a beat, breaking his melodic humming. He hadn’t been flustered by Jack’s confession, and the younger man realized he was relieved at that.

It was a simple fact, it seemed.

“Mark, you don’t mind that I said it?” He questioned, a hand tracing patterns on his boyfriend’s bare shoulder. The soft skin was something he always loved touching, his lips planting soft kisses against it. They were slight and tender, but he always loved when Mark shivered slightly at them. “You know I’m not the type of person to say shit like that.”

“Which is why it means a lot to me.” Mark pulled Jack’s face away from his neck and gave a soft smile, earning a grin from the other as well. “You don’t need to tell me you love me for me to know. I know you do, silly. I always have.”

Quirking an eyebrow, the younger man laced his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and planted a gentle kiss on warm lips.

“Well, I love you anyway and I’m going to say it as much as I want.”

“Thank you for telling me about… everything,” Mark murmured, his voice low. “About the battle. That was a whirlwind on its own…”

Jack’s eyes closed, letting his lover shield him from all the darkness externally and internally. There was no greater feeling, he believed. Nothing could surpass being protected by someone who treasures you for everything. For your past, for your present, and for your future. It was surreal coming to the realization that his damaged self needed someone like Mark to help him realize that everything was okay.

Everything would be okay.

Jack immediately thought of the scene that had taken place not too long ago, his cheeks quickly flushing a quaint pink. Feverish kisses over old scars, tender skin rubbing against each other, soft words strung together in desperate whimpers.

It all started when Jack finally told Mark of his time fighting, how he desperately brawled in a battle that was not his. But it had entirely been the right thing to do. He knew he was fighting for the right cause, and as Mark listened to each story, to each horrible sentence, Jack witnessed the sad look in his eyes with each passing minute.

When the younger man finished his plight, he had predicted Mark would throw him, revolted that a murderer lived under his roof. Jack had been crying by the end, partially out of the reminiscence of his past, but mostly in fear of the reaction he expected that he would soon face.

But when Mark grabbed him, he was surprised to be pulled into a desperate kiss, a taste of metallic hitting his tongue. He had been chewing his lips so harshly that he drew blood, and when he was going to pull away worried that his boyfriend would too taste it, strong hands grabbed the back of his hair and he cried harder, relishing in the sensation.

Mark continued to kiss every inch of burning skin, from damp eyelids, to the somehow beautiful white scar on his delicate cheek, followed by his burning chest, then that final part of Jack that made his toes curl and released a wonderful sound from deep within. While he was always enamoured by Mark’s captivating music, the sounds that came from Jack’s mouth was a song Mark wanted to spend hours memorizing.

His boyfriend has kissed away all the regret, all the pain, every ounce of guilt that dwelled inside his heart. Jack was fairly known for having thick walls of ice barricading him in, but since Mark provided that certain warm touch needed to melt down those barriers, the ice inside seemed to have thawed bit by bit. While there is no cure-all or solution to Jack’s demons, Mark’s presence in his life definitely lessened the impact drastically.

Although Jack hated the sun with every fiber of his being, Mark’s sunshine was something he was able to get used to. In fact, he was fairly certain that it was the eternal sunshine he needed for his cloudiest of days.

“Thank you for being you, mo gréine,” Jack whispered in response, his eyes still closed.

“What’s that mean?”

“My sun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! Well this was inspired by my mom’s friend who passed years ago. His story inspired this story entirely. My mom and I sat down at breakfast and she told me about his tale, which she only knew glimpses of from when he would get too drunk and talk about it in drunken stupor. 
> 
> I remember him on his deathbed. I remember him covered in blood and IVs and hospital blankets screaming and crying about how he deserved this. He deserved the death that was coming to him and how he was “a god damned bastard”. He passed a week or so later. 
> 
> He died alone. My mom and I were the only ones to visit him because he lived alone. He refused to tell his daughter about his time there in Australia, despite how many times she begged and pleaded for answers. He never wanted his picture taken because he was still paranoid, even in a different continent. His demons came to haunt him in the last stages of life, and he died feeling this way.
> 
> This was just my attempt at giving his story a much different ending. While he pushed everyone away, Jack welcomed the one thing he found happiness in. While my mom’s friend let himself live in his regrets no matter who told him otherwise, Jack allowed himself to learn that if someone can forgive him, why can’t he forgive himself? I think that this was a very important lesson regardless of the situation. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed!


End file.
